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“...and that’s probably as much as I can tell you without getting into spoilies,” Tango concluded, bowing with a flourish of his cape. “I know it’s not much yet, but this mountain’s taking me longer than I thought, and it’s hard to get anything decorative built until I know where everything’s gonna be, you know?”
Joe Hills applauded, nodding his head. “I getcha, I getcha, but I got-cha say, what you’ve got so far is already more than some people halfway through a season, so I don’t think you need to worry about it being ‘not much’, you know?” He looked up at the gatehouse. “Though I will say, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unsee the face on the western tower. Like a very angry Mumbo, with the mustache turned down like that.”
A huff, and Tango threw up his hands, peeved and resigned. “Look, there’s only so much I can do! Two windows are gonna look like eyes, and the brain does the rest.”
“No, I think it works! The grim eyes of the gatehouse, glaring down on those who dare approach.” Joe shivered theatrically, getting a snort out of Tango. “Setting the mood.”
“Yeah? Let’s just hope I can keep that mood up the whole way.”
Joe’s brow furrowed. “You say that like you think it’s not a given, Tango. Something up?”
Tango let out a long sigh, leaning back against the bracing column. The flickering fire lit his face in profile, managing to cast a shadow even in the waning sunlight.
His voice grew more somber, exhaustion poking through. “Just the usual. Lotta pressure on me to make Decked Out 3 a hit, lotta worry that it’ll be good but not good enough, y’know?” He gestured down the long ramp, towards the barely-visible figures of armor stands at the base. “People already putting themselves in line for something that doesn’t exist yet. What if it doesn’t live up to the expectations?”
Joe paused a moment, then shrugged. “There would not be expectations on you if we did not fully believe in your capacity to not only reach, but exceed them. That belief comes from evidence, mind you, not just blind faith; you’ve done good work, Tango, and you’ve learned from it, and now there’s room to try more things. I mean, you were doing things with Hungry Hermits last season that wouldn’t have crossed anyone’s minds before, and now they’re new tools in your belt!”
“Yeah,” Tango sighed heavily, “it’s just my brain, I know. But this early in, it’s hard to tell how pointed I am in the right direction; and it’s not something I can ask for help with too much.”
Joe moved to rest against the column next to Tango. “Because all the Hermits who’d know how to help don’t want to be spoiled?”
“No–well, yes, that, and more.” Tango looked at Joe, idly biting into the side of his lip. “I know that everyone knows I’m being hard on myself about this, which means. Well. I can’t always tell if something they say they like is actually good, or just people humoring me, you know? We’re all friends, and sometimes you say something’s fine when it’s not just to be nice to your friends.”
“So you think we’re all just. Telling you what you want to hear, instead of what you need to hear?” Joe’s face set itself into thought. “And you think the only reason we’d say something nice is because we like you, and not because we actually believe it?”
“No–”
“You don’t trust us to be honest, Tango?”
“That’s not what I mean! I just–”
“I know it’s not, but it’s what you were saying, just not in those words.” Joe adjusted his glasses, the firelight gleaming off the rims. “Look, Tango. "In order for me to be telling you only what you want to hear, I'd have to first be able to think exactly like you to know what you want to hear, and if I thought exactly like you, then I'd be making my own Decked Out over there, which clearly I am not–unless you consider my fire suppression system to be an obstacle course, instead of an obstacle to arson." That surprised a chuckle out of Tango, and Joe pressed on. “None of us think like any of the rest of us. So, you can’t know that we’re just being nice, any more reliably than you can know we’re not. And another thing–remember that the Hermits love to get to be brutal about something in a helpful way. Because it’s both more helpful, and usually funnier, than just humoring someone.”
“Unless you’re Cleo,” Tango offered, even as the frown began to clear from his face. “Cleo always sounds like they’re just humoring you.”
“Cleo has mastered the art of brutally-humoring someone, yes. I’m well aware. But she also knows how to point out the difference between something you’re worrying over for nothing, and something that’s an actual problem to solve. And the rest of us are gettin’ better at it.” Joe clapped a hand on Tango’s shoulder, firm and grounding. “The point is, there’s no way to tell what we’re thinking when we say something, good or bad. Half of interpersonal communication is trusting that someone’s telling you the truth, and if they’re not, it’s not on you to try and sleuth out the secret meaning. I’ve been taking people at their word so far, and it’s worked out a lot better than it had any right to, so. Maybe it’ll work for you.”
Tango sighed, some of the tension rolling out of his shoulders and slumping the corners of the cape. He pressed his hand over Joe’s, cold on warm. “Thanks, Joe. You always know how to make it all seem so clear.” A soft laugh. “I need to rubber duck with you more, instead of just sneaking shulkers of deepslate off your pier. Just feels like bugging you over nothing.”
“Well, the pier is here to be commandeered, and so am I–part of why all my set building is modular is so that if I get distracted, I’m able to figure out what I was doing later. So I’m glad to hear I’m not less effective than an inanimate object.” A beat, and Joe jumped to a full stand, a light glinting in his eyes. He started fumbling in his pockets for his rockets. “Speaking of getting distracted! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about possibly shooting a promo for Decked Out 3.”
Tango looked skeptical, even as his own rockets came out. “A promo? Joe, there’s nothing to promo yet, just a ramp and the front gate, and like. Half a mountain?”
“Yes, but, the best kind of early commercials don’t actually have a lot of substance in them. It’s about teasing the idea to the audience. And in fact, you have the most important thing you’d need, which is that outfit.” A pause for the bang of two firework rockets, Joe taking to the air and Tango following shortly behind. “Y’see, I’ve got this stage I’ve been experimentin’ with for some storm and doom and gloom effects using pale saplings and wind charges. And I’m thinking if we green-screen you into there at just the right height…”